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Dec 2015 · 1.2k
Survival
Wallamo Dec 2015
I always feel different after a break up
Not in the ways you expect
But stronger in a sad way
In Survival Mode I feel prettier
I feel more capable and older and wiser
My hair falls nicer
I'm slimmer and taller

Survival Mode reminds me of flings past
Suppressed crushes
Surfacing above new earth

But the earth is made of bricks
And they keep getting stepped on
Until eventually
Love lost becomes the past
And the bricks break into pieces
And when I clean them up
The soil shows itself

And Survival Mode is on standby
And the heart will go back up
6 inches higher in my chest
Where it was before

And maybe I won't be as tall as I was in Survival Mode
But at least I knew myself in that time
To show perseverance and grace
May 2015 · 324
Inevitable Dog
Wallamo May 2015
My body has formed a spot for you
To curl around me, limbs entwined.
a perfect cocoon.

Every single bit of me fits in every part of you.
You fit in me quite nicely too.
...
I hate the required "time alone"
When it means I don't get to sleep next to you.

That's not to say I don't need it, though.
We're holding up signs that say "I MAKE ART"
But surrendering to our surroundings -
cutting our fingers in hot kitchens.

So let's take our time, my love.
We'll grow through creation
And for me, while I do it
I'll be day dreaming about our little life together
And our inevitable dog.
May 2015 · 1.3k
mtl
Wallamo May 2015
mtl
fresh trees  french streets cool breeze tight squeeze
boy friend new friend
want a dog hours logged less smog
tomorrow off
and friday off
and saturday off
and sunday on
and monday on
and tuesday on
and wednesday on
and thursday off
and friday off
and sunday off
i'm bored

head board
grab on turn on

do that thing do those things make the thing
switch on switch off
anxious on anxious off
write a song sing along play along bike along
bike alone walk alone sing alone
bike together walk together sing together
act normal act normal act normal
realize realize realize realize realize
new city new people new language
few friends bad job
two lost lovers one found love
find me find you together apart together apartment
apartment together
maybe next year.
jumbled thoughts on new life new city new friends new(ish) love old bike.
Feb 2015 · 447
box boy
Wallamo Feb 2015
Insecurities are common in far away love.
I know you love me, so it's odd to consider otherwise.
I've been here before, unable to communicate
with the humans around me, drinking wine and being celibate.

I want so badly to see your face inside my tiny plastic infobox.
I want to hear your voice saying those true words
that make my heart fall out of my body, into my socks.
you tell me to let myself go far into you. I will.

You're pixely. But when there is a poor connection, ours doesn't break.
LIES, we say. we mean it so badly.
I'm drunk, and you're sleeping, and that's all there is to it.
My past has offered nothing to consider what's worth doing

(******* time zones)

You see, I've been here before, but not quite so quickly.
So my fists are up, clenched and concerned
Until I see your box boy face and I loosen and I soften
and you tell me that you love me. And I believe you, and I love you too.

Bare with me, while I overcome my own insecurities.
You give and give, how loyal your face.
Your naked body and your warm singing voice
will have me swooning for years, just let it settle in place.

I love you, I love, I love you a lot.  
You said "come to Montreal with me" and I lost all other thoughts.
Now I wonder and hope that this dream will come true.
I want creation and love and it's all because of you.

So when I feel insecure, it's only because you're not here
Your hands and your eyes are out east, but you're here
I wish you were here, and you say that you are.
Your heart is with mine, what a beautiful thought.
falling in love oh boy what a thrill
Jan 2015 · 385
sound creep cigarettes
Wallamo Jan 2015
your laugh matches mine, so the details will come
you asked me if I smoke and I said yes (though I don't)
so we shared a cigarette and a first kiss, and away we went and here we are
so near, so near, so far, so far

I was fearless with you until I left
your hands across the table, we both know the rest
micro moments, sound creeps

Your winter hat reminded me of my province's flag
and you looked so good with a cigarette in one hand and my hand in the other
I'm confusing things I hope will happen with things that actually have
you and me in the future, dancing gently, kissing tightly.

I took a photograph of you as you sang to me, unharmed, unbroken undone as hell
And now I wonder if you'll come to New York with me
in your new car, driving far across the country closer to me!!
You were sad before I left, and I think I loved you already.
Jan 2015 · 609
PEI hat
Wallamo Jan 2015
I see your face in my mind all the time, but it's blurry
your lack of middle name
your distant and beautiful voice, growing pains
our hilarious jokes, you have my father's name

tangled together, beautiful and untouched
your lips press against me until I say it's too much
and we laugh and we laugh and we laugh at the cats
you tell me this is too beautiful for words to reenact.

you take the whole world in your hands and you hug it
and you give it to me to hold
since I met you I've known I don't need much more
than our perfect hundredth kiss by new library doors

you're coming closer to me, I can feel the world moving
it's like canada's shrinking and it's all your doing
i'll take the bus and the train and the plane and the world
to your doorstep to you to your hat and our beauty

you can sing songs by Joni, and I'll do the same
and we'll laugh and we'll laugh about being insane
we deserve the love that we're giving and the love that we'll get
I hope that you wear that PEI hat.

next time when we hold hands across the coffee shop table
the contemplation will be gone and your coffee will be black
I'll smile to you as the world's loving arms hug us
and we'll make love again to embrace the love again, we just must.
Dec 2014 · 588
sitting
Wallamo Dec 2014
sitting here in this estranged town
in a house where my old landlords live
with cracked walls and strangers and realizing
you and i aren't friends anymore.

i'd like to cry about it and i will maybe but
i haven't yet and i don't have the patience.
the thought of you walking down the street to
the coffee shop is distant and maybe not real.

this place reminds me of you and them and
everyone else who i knew here but
the only thing i want is to yell in your face
about how wrong you were to stop being my friend
Sep 2014 · 369
to sum it up
Wallamo Sep 2014
basement apartment
new font, no heart
don't flaunt
I don't want to know you
or your life at all.

street dresser
thanks friends
mend my mind.
did you stray or stay

what did you say
to me when we spoke

vague day
grey
moving away
ambiguous jokes

nervous laughter
nervous laughter

music
you're sick? I'll help you
i'm out of view you're out too
two great two
to manage
tattoo

picture
call
picture
call

distance far
sadness far away
grey
Aug 2014 · 657
Wrapped
Wallamo Aug 2014
If you didn't want to talk anymore
Then you needed to tell me
Or at least do it gradually
Don't peter out so ******* casually

I'm not gonna argue with you
I'm not gonna fight for you
I didn't think August would come so soon
So I wasn't really ready to lose you.
But I didn't ever think masculinity looked so good on you
Until you cut your hair and got your cool tattoo
And if you're moving away you'd better do it soon, go far west, **** with Winnie the Pooh.

And together was a good place to put us
And "everything happens for a reason" was so far beneath us
And all our friends think they're gonna get through to us
But I can't get through to you
You don't even seem to give a ****.

I'm better than waiting around for reasons to open up
Your "what you see is what you get" attitude
Sometimes ****** me off
I wanted to feel important to you and it's not like we moved to fast or moved too soon
But you're moving away, daaa, so that's ****** too.

My mom always makes fun of me when we're texting
Smirk on my face, being funny has never been hard for me
And I like when I can make you laugh and I hope you do
But right now I don't wanna do that because I feel like a ******* fool.

There's no answer for us here in this giant country
Living in Canada has never really made me feel lonely
There's not much for me in my giant city

But it's not like I'm gonna up and move around the country
But if you asked I'd probably say "you want me? I've got nothing to do here, so we'll see." But I'd worry about what everyone would think of me
Because they don't know we've even thought about dating.
It's a great secret that everyone probably knows
It would be great if Manitoba would just put up a sign: closed.
when you read this poem, I recommend rapping it aloud.
Apr 2014 · 335
Wolfish
Wallamo Apr 2014
I'll admit, it's disappointing to see your cracks
and they're growing.
Not large, not broken, but enough that they're showing.

I was beginning to think you couldn't ever be sad;
Hoping that you could be the joy in my life that never goes bad.

Of course you are not. It would be cruel to expect it, and
It's easy to want everything new to be poetic.

Expectations are worthless, and I blame myself for each one.
For straying from my past, and avoiding no one.

Eventually I will break, and will have to confess that
from moment to moment my heart strays
from dark to romance.

I turn on the "closed" sign when you don't entertain
my selfish and needy and hugely flawed ways.

I'm falling, I think, but from so far away.
I don't even know if I'll see you on Monday.

Though we planned and we planned
I thought this would be it.
I just wanna kiss your lips with my lips.
And see if this fuss I've been making
Is worth the trip.
Not-so-involved, hard-to-be-truthful, I-hope-you-let-me-in-really-close-because-i-want-to-be-with-you-i-think, kind of poem.
Wallamo Mar 2014
Paperchase and a hundred tiny blankets are the moon, but I'd take a plane to a tiny island on another earth far from ours and far from our moon. Of course, it holds no comparison. But how could it? How could it when years and years of history and development and discovery have been made about the moon, while finally an organism was found on this tiny island on a tiny earth somewhere so far away from our earth and from our moon. That tiny island's just got to be a little bit closer. It's moving at a snail's pace toward me, but it's moving. And someday, if it's ever possible, maybe I'll go there. I'd take a plane there, if I could. It's just not close enough and I can't afford a rocket. But I would, if it would accept a visitor. Maybe even a resident.

It's nice to daydream about a vacation on an island far, far away. It's so perfect and unique and foreign. Are there other people there? I hope there are not. I would like to be the only one there when I finally arrive.

For now I will keep sending postcards, in hopes they will be received.
I can only count to four before I'm back at one.
I know you're the same. Let's get to five soon.
See you at five.
Wallamo Oct 2013
These ******* calling everyone
*******
really need to check in with that.
Oct 2013 · 819
C.rush
Wallamo Oct 2013
You have beautiful hands.
So wrong to write about a taken man.
To desire such a forbidden lust
but to be wrapped in your arms would be perfect
introduce me to your art
bring that passion to me with those lips
It's been a long time since I longed for a kiss.
To feel you a against me would be beautiful
(like your messy, curly hair, oh my I am swooning.)
Before now I've been making it up
like a play-write, a poet, an actress,
hoping for just this.
Can you hear my heart beat from four doors away?
I want to laugh with you all night long.
Please tell me that it will be done.
Still miss that trombone.
Sep 2013 · 655
Friends
Wallamo Sep 2013
Unconditional love is hard to find.
We hide, we seek, and we fall on our faces
(At least, I have)

But in the darkest of nights, let's raise a glass to our friends
The ones who give us endless love, tough love, pure love.
(Beloved friend.)

The ones who will yell at us when we need it
And the ones who will yell at those who have done us wrong
(True friend.)

You, my friends, are my family.
To family!
(Sacred friend-family)

So in the darkest of nights, the brightest of days,
You are my light, and you are part of me.
You are who you love, and I am my friends.

Precious, true, beloved, sacred, magic.

Friend.
Jul 2013 · 343
Untitled
Wallamo Jul 2013
Digesting all things new
is inspiring and scary.

One week ago, I had 20 fewer friends.
It turns out, "they" were right about being yourself.

New worlds, new passions, new confidence.
I'll never to go back to the doubt that I had.
Jun 2013 · 562
Sensory Overload
Wallamo Jun 2013
Combine:
2 parts friend
with
1 part lover
and you'll get a very cliche recipe for disaster.
"Friend!" they'll say.
But they'll  be ****** if they don't make their mark on my not-so-celebate soul.
And I'll be ****** if I do it again.

I am a politician working my way through citizen after citizen.
"Friend!" I'll say, with gritted teeth.
Wanting nothing more than to knit them a sweater.
Bake them some cookies.

A pathetic darkness settles in my heart at this very moment for something that I never even had.
But that's just the surface. After all, who wants to bare their soul to a politician?
Apr 2013 · 461
Little Blue
Wallamo Apr 2013
Oh my, what am I waiting for?!
Tried and True.
You always surprise me
Out of the blue.

I've come to expect it,
given our past
But you always give in
(Maybe I should just ask)

Are you coming for me?!
Does true love conquer all?!

Or will I just have to wait?
(Four months 'till the Fall)

Every sound that I hear
Is a glimmer of hope!
But 'till I see that blue car
I'll just sit here and mope.

Oh! Woe is me! Life is so hard!

I'll just sit here and wait
for that little blue car.
Mar 2013 · 1.0k
A Hundred Tiny Blankets
Wallamo Mar 2013
Is it over-analysis or discovery? Perhaps there is no difference.
Or perhaps emotions run higher
After a wonderful rendition of Danny Boy.

When you associate all of the beautiful art in life with another person, you're bound to love them.
--That explains it.
After all, art is more beautiful when it is shared.

Such a distinct memory, those hundreds of tiny blankets.
A bed impossible to make, though sometimes it's worth taking the time.
All that can be longed for is a closeness that, even when apart, can be felt.

Carry your love to your bed of a hundred tiny blankets, and talk about the silence of the night.
And about how time doesn't matter. It's night. And what a closeness. What a special occurrence, to be tangled together in these tiny blankets.

When stress overtakes powerful thoughts, and beauty is no longer number one,
Take a second. Look into the eyes of the one you love. Relax, love. This is rare.
Create!

Creation is the only cure for depression.
Just remember, my love, to create for happiness.
Be beautiful in your whole life, just the way you are in your hundred tiny blankets.

Grace comes from a calm and good place
Where the best journalists interview seemingly mundane people, but find their depth within seconds
And Pina Bauch inspires every dancer to become a philosopher
While you, my love, strive for all of this and more. You can find it in your hundred tiny blankets.

This much, I promise you.
Wallamo Feb 2013
Three-day long relationships are frequent with us. We thrive on them and they are magnificent.

All of my emotions surfaced before we spoke, I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry for catching you off guard. I didn't mean to. But I suppose I knew what I was doing. You were so nervous, and for a moment I thought the tables had turned. But they never really do.

When I met you at the jazz bar downtown (I was late because I, of course, took the wrong subway) I stayed calm. I wasn't nervous. I was so excited to see you again, to look into your eyes, to share an evening together. I saw you between two people sitting, looking at me. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face, and neither could you. You had your usual - the nicest beer you can get at the bar. You shook with excitement. I love when you do that. It makes you so real.

You wore your sharpest outfit, and so did I. I went for "business-casual" with a lacy shirt and red lipstick (for *** appeal). We both succeeded in impressing one another. Nothing had changed. We sat close and I thought our smiles would be on our faces for the rest of eternity.

It was clear that we would spend the night together when you reached across the table and pushed my hair out of my face. I blushed and giggled. The jazz music filled the bar, but we paid no attention. We were so captivated by one another. The mere existence of you was overwhelming to me.

When small-talk presented itself it was clear that there was no interest. Words would come out of our mouths slowly, not meaning anything, as we looked at each other, and telepathy kicked in. We would stop mid sentence just to look at each other.

You ate all of the chicken wings. I hate three. They were gross. You felt sick, but you still smiled. When you tried to kiss me in the bar I felt powerful by teasingly pulling away. And as soon as we got to your car our lips were locked in the most passionate kiss of the century. The touch of your lips on mine could cure world hunger. The thought of that can simultaneously bring tears to my eyes and and put a smile on my face.

At your incredibly low-ceilinged basement apartment we began to talk about snare drum. We didn't want to. "Let's not talk about snare drum right now." "I hate snare drum." After that we took our time to make love. In your bed of a hundred small blankets instead of one big one, with you laying on top of me, our bodies so close and so warm, smiling from ear to ear, my eyes filled with tears and I couldn't help from telling you that I love you. So much. And you responded with the same. I didn't want to cry because I didn't want you to think that I was sad. I wasn't sad. I was so amazed by the overwhelming happiness that was sweeping me off my feet.

The following days were amazing. But reality had kicked in. This is so real, but it's fleeting. As it is. That didn't stop me from loving every second that I spent with you. There were so many moments that have been carved into my mind. Your face in the bar. When you put your arm around me in front of our friends. When you kissed me at the cafe. When I told you about the other guy - you were so jealous, though you would never admit it.

When we were playing board games at the bar/cafe (the barfe) and you talked to me about god - not bible, jesus, catholic god, but god as an inexplicable power - as something to believe in to have hope. A "greater power". I was so amazed by your explanation and the wisdom with which you spoke. I could have sworn I had never loved you more. But I can say that about so many moments. I'm glad you bought that book I told you to get.

I'm not as hurt as I had been before this weekend. I am amazed that you are able to see this relationship for what it is - incredibly real and true and unbelievably beautiful, but dysfunctional at this point in our lives. I wish I wasn't waiting for you, but I always will be. I'm yours, my love.
Feb 2013 · 415
haiku
Wallamo Feb 2013
My heart is heavy
Dripping with inspiration
Toronto, my love.
Feb 2013 · 722
on my knees
Wallamo Feb 2013
Desperate to find explanation
for everything in that place
where my dearest friends (and lovers)
kept me on my toes
begging on my knees

I resolve to nothing
because I refuse to let go.
But the greatest acts in life include letting go.
I refuse.

The closeness was better than ever
and the romance was better than ever
and the talking was better than ever
and the friendship was better than ever
and the games were better than ever.

"The Texting Champion of Toronto!"
I'm so proud of her.
...and she looks it.
My beloved friend.

A thousand poems could be written
about riding on airplanes
and on subways
Above the clouds, and below the earth
And to frequently catch the eye
of someone who's life is just a big as yours
but it's easy to pretend that's not true.
Because no one's life is a big as your own. Right?

the friendship really was better than ever.
Feb 2013 · 548
snowpants
Wallamo Feb 2013
Blessed be your lovely pants
The ones which shield you from cold and wet,
that add girth to your chicken legs,
and make you the man that you are.

A man who is warm, a man who is dry.
A man who, if hit by a flying ice pellet
Will remain unscarred
(as long as it doesn't hit you in the face).

Oops - did I hit your face with this sharp ice pellet?

This wretched season cannot be fought
without the slippery zipping sounds made by your beloved pants.
I will have my parents send your freedom pants immediately.
For I cannot bear the thought of your empty life
Without your trusty snowpants.
Jan 2013 · 564
Paperchase [my version]
Wallamo Jan 2013
Beneath me is a busy street, around me are caffeine fiends, behind me are friends, yet I am momentarily stuck on what I cannot reach. My mind has not left our last encounter.

We were both so still, neither of us knowing how to react, as the lyrics so accurately depicted our feelings toward one another.

Alone, silent, and constricted we listened. I was so hopeful, you were so distant. As we created together your sadness lifted and the air was different. We left our hearts in our heads and explored the humor we've always used. After creating you told me that you felt the only cure for depression was creation. I smiled and felt like crying as I looked at your eyes. I had no response.

"I feel I must be wearing my welcome. I must be moving on. My intentions were good intentions. I could have loved you, I could have changed you. I wouldn't be so, I wouldn't feel so consumed by selfish thoughts. I'm sorry if I feel self effacing, consumed by selfish thoughts. It's only that I still love you deeply, it's all the love I got," sang Sufjan. We so silently listened. We did not look at one another. We were both scared in that moment. I was scared in that moment. I did not expect what I heard, I was scared of what I heard, as he had taken the thoughts out of my head.

Perhaps those lyrics did not strike you in the way they struck me. They were piercing. But I know you; your thoughts wander to places that I cannot reach in those moments.

Your mind travels so far. I used to know where you went, in your fits of silence, but you have changed. I know so little as the direction. East, West, near, far. I can only guess.

Now I sit at the window, silently listening to music that we so recently silently listened to together. Still so accurately depicting how I feel.

You have changed, you have grown, you have shrunk. I have done the same, for better and for worse. Our love is seemingly lost, but still lingers in every conversation and glance and thought.

This same place, where I wrote about you, both good and bad, where I spoke to you on the phone, where we came together. This place has not changed at all. It doesn't know how much we've changed, how much you've changed, or how much I've changed. But in some ways, we are just like this place in which I sit - we haven't  changed. We remain the same.
Jan 2013 · 581
Rupert the Cat, I miss you.
Wallamo Jan 2013
When things are put into perspective
everything becomes poetic
and beautiful
Even the grey snow on the freezing cold pavement
in this town that I hate

But an exchange of art and beauty
gives a good perspective
Today, Monday, I can thank Julia for that.
Thank you Julia.

On Saturday a cat followed me home
After my favorite evening of this year
so far
I wanted to keep him, but I knew I could not.
So I let him go (since: if you love something...)

And on Friday a four-year-long tension was released
(well, almost.)
How ya doin'? repeated over and over
I was just fine.

Now, today, still Monday
I sit in a coffee shop drinking coffee with soy
which I hate
waving at every third person that walks by the window
in this small, predictable town

Oh, to be lost in a sea of people
Where buildings tower above me
in a city that so many hate
But a city that I long for every day.
Jan 2013 · 4.6k
Earrings
Wallamo Jan 2013
I wore cheap earrings today
But they made my ears red and hot.

So I wore the diamond earrings
That, for me, you bought.
The discomfort went away
Though your healing love is lost.

You must have been excited
About such an extravagant purchase.
Jan 2013 · 1.4k
To my future husband
Wallamo Jan 2013
Should you ever wear colongne
For someone else
Because you are in love
Please leave me -

I don't mean to be dramatic
But I truly want, for us, happiness.
I will let you go, guilt free
As I and others have been let go before.

Should you have purely desire,
Please know the distinction.
And if we suffer together,
We will indeed have failed.

Pessimism is not what I intend,
I prefer realism in this life
[though as a romantic, that is hard]
Hopefully we will share this ideal.

If love can last forever, I hope that we will have it
If we do not, I will not hate you
Or whoever has stolen your heart
For what we will have built will be enough
Or it will not.
Jan 2013 · 767
Lament
Wallamo Jan 2013
A cherished friend once told me:
You are who you love.
I am much of her. And I am much of my other cherished friends.

A lost love lives on in this way
I am so much of him - I practically am him. I've loved so much I've left myself behind.

In the streets of Manhattan, my soul left me. Maybe it stayed there, awaiting my return
With some new fling on my arm
To take me to the opera.

I gave away my lightness and naivity to a dark, cold man who I know is more than that [there has to be more than that].

I left my pride in Toronto on Bloor street
Where I  flirted with 3 [three] men. I wanted them all. I still want them all.

But I took only one. Except he took me. In moments he loves me so much he turns into me. But it is fleeting. And it has gone.

So as we let go we regain ourselves. I will take back my optimism, thank you.

And I will remain as myself until we meet again. Maybe then we won't be so selfish and take so much,
Only to give so little.
Jan 2013 · 1.9k
Symmetry
Wallamo Jan 2013
All my technology died
At midnight
Everyone else left the
Huge
Room
While inspiration kicked through my soul

I sit centred
Everything left and right
Identical
Soon will be darkness
But shortly again light.
Light! Light!

Symmetry in front of me is the only
Place it can be found

— The End —